Mercy
by Sfaari
Summary: Requested by RedxLizzie. A take on the ending of 1x06.


AN: This is for RedxLizzie, who asked for this a while back ago. I'm sorry it took so long. I hope you like it. This was also inspired by the song 'Mercy' by Hurts. Check them out on youtube!

I'd also like to say that I'm horrible at grammar and this hasn't been beta'd. My apologies.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

...

_Don't cry mercy / There's too much pain to come_

"I don't understand why you would do this! Any of it!"

Liz breathed, her eyes lost, searching, before they snapped to his. Time stopped as her mind zeroed in to yesterday evening, when she had gone to him about Rudigger. That moment when he turned and saw her.

"_I don't care if the wedding is Saturday, all I care about is my payment." His eyes alighted on her, focusing intently, a change overtaking them as the last word left his lips. Payment. It was subtle, soft yet sharp, the weight of it heavy, almost smothering. His movements became more languid and smooth. It had immediately put her on alert, the simple act of breathing becoming difficult. _

"_Hakeem, this conversation is over."_

_He ended his call, greeting her with that look in his eyes now spreading like wildfire through his face. She saw his mouth work in a way that immediately put her in mind of a lion licking his chops. "Hello Lizzie." he said as he moved towards her, his voice deep and smooth like liquid silk._

_Stunned and bewildered as she was by the subtle but immense change in his approach to her, that the panic she felt suddenly invade her couldn't quite be contained. So when he tossed the phone, she immediately followed it, puzzled yet relieved for the distraction, until the unsettling sensation in her chest increased as she realized just how close Dembe was. _

_She felt startled, like a deer. Dembe never followed her that closely before when she visited. Liz turned back to Red, wrestling with the urge to back up as she felt the room grow smaller. The suffocating feeling from earlier increasing exponentially as if she were underwater in the deep end, unable to swim to the surface that she could so clearly see. _

"_What can I do for you?" he purred. He had moved closer than she would've liked, his all encompassing presence and closeness encroaching, an imminent invasion. The look he appraised her with contained and subdued, but just as intense, boring into the deepest parts of her soul as if he was making a meal of her. Her heart pounding, a roar in her ears, and the room unbearably hot. Feeling as though she was a millisecond away from spontaneously combusting. _

_She had felt trapped, enveloped, consumed, as if she were being smothered from all sides, inside and out. Feeling woefully out of her league, she had felt hunted. No. Being hunted implied that there was a hope for escape, and she felt that escape was not an option. No, she felt as if she had just been successfully herded into the slaughterhouse. She could almost her the sickening click of the gates closing all around her. _

_But then thoughts of Tom came to her mind, and everything seemed less important, melting away into oblivion. So she ignored it, shook off the fight-or-flight response that had nearly controlled her and tuned out what her instincts were screaming at her, chalking it all up to the overbearing stress of the past few days that had been seemingly building for an eternity._

_Instead, she allowed him to guide her to the only chair in the room while he took the edge of a crate, his body angled to face her, leaning, his absolute attention the sole property of her at that moment._

And it clicked. Liz's breath paused as realization dawned. She should have noticed the signs. Should have paid attention. She was being pursued, herded into a desired direction like a wolf herds a sheep.

The only question was his purpose in all of this, and she had an idea as to what that might be.

Her shoulders slumped, her head falling a bit to the side. The wind had left her sails. All that was left in it's bitter wake was the ebb and flow of pain. Of the hurt, betrayal and shame. But nipping at it's heels like a hell hound, gathering in a raging storm, a burning ember, was the desire to inflict the same.

And she would, and she would be only as merciful as he had been to her.

"Go to hell."

She turned and left, promising herself that she will never be foolish enough to let him in again.


End file.
